


Captive: A Mini Reylo Fic

by KCMarsala



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, POV Ben Solo, ending the war, no force bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-19 09:01:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13701240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KCMarsala/pseuds/KCMarsala
Summary: Over the past year, Ben has changed considerably, becoming disillusioned by the First Order and implementing a plan to end the war with the Resistance as its victors. Now, ready to execute the last step of his plan, he has to confront Rey once again. Unfortunately, she has her own opinions about his lofty plan.Excerpt:He knew the moment she noticed him, felt it like a stab to his core through the Force. He saw the fierce determination in her eyes and he tried to match it, but was certain he failed. All he could feel was sorrow.The tempo of his steps increased as he covered the ground toward her. He watched as she turned her body toward him, bringing her magnificent dual-bladed, bright white lightsaber to bear, her lips pulling back in a vicious sneer as she sought what she had yet to realize he was here to offer her willingly. Deflecting one last bolt and seeing her raise her weapon with the start of a battle cry intended to lend her extra strength, Ben thumbed his lightsaber off and dropped to his knees at her feet, his head bowed and his eyes closed.Do it, he thought desperately. End me. End my misery.





	1. Ding Dong Hux is Dead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Perry_Downing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perry_Downing/gifts).



> This story is based on the idea that it turns out Snoke wasn’t lying and he really did create the connections between Kylo Ren and Rey in “The Last Jedi.” (Note: This also means there was no Force connection between them on Crait since Snoke was dead by then.) So, there is no Force bond and there’s no special link between the two of them. But…that doesn’t mean they weren’t profoundly affected by the experience.
> 
> This story is dedicated to the incomparable Perry Downing, for her inspiring work on the Ben Solo Pain Train!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s been a busy boy. (How’s that for alliteration!) And now he’s only got one thing left to take care of…

Ben stared down at Hux, his pale eyes fixed upward in astonishment. He grit his teeth, thinking of how far he’d come in the past year and wondering what it said of him that he didn’t regret this kill. Had he regressed, reverted to the Darkness he’d fought so hard to overcome? No, this didn’t feel like the murders he’d committed in his horribly misguided attempts to gain Snoke’s favor. It didn’t leave him with the gut-wrenching sensation of _wrongness_ that he’d tried so hard for so long to ignore. Instead, this felt righteous, vindicated. Hux never would have stopped, not until every last soul in the galaxy lay oppressed and subjugated to his rule. Idly, Ben wondered how a person could get to be so depraved. More alarmingly, he wondered if he would have become one of them, had he not killed Snoke, had he not met _her_. He shook his head. He didn’t know the answer to that and, really, it didn’t matter.

Resisting the urge to shove at Hux’s body with his boot, Ben turned aside, instead taking care not to track his footsteps through the pooling blood. It wouldn’t take long for his traitorous duplicity to be discovered, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t need long and, actually, that would work to his advantage. Or, more accurately, the Resistance’s advantage. Once the General’s death was discovered and the remaining officers realized they couldn’t reach the Supreme Leader, the fight would go out of them. He’d seen to it over the past year that not one true leader staffed the bridge crew. It had been an easy task, given Hux’s eagerness to appoint individuals who would offer no challenge to his authority. Ben was certain Hux had never once imagined that his suggestions were the result of anything but incompetence. Had he guessed the truth, maybe he wouldn’t lie dead now with viscous blood oozing from his shattered and torn throat.

Ben startled at a sudden wrenching in the Force, drawing him back to the present situation and away from his thoughts. He’d set a mental tracer on her as soon as he’d sensed her presence on the planet below, and it tugged at him now, reminding him of the task at hand. Directing his consciousness outside the door, he found the bridge crew fully attentive to their various tasks, turned decidedly away from Hux’s ready room. Nevertheless, Ben threw a visual shield over the evidence of his deeds, just in case someone looked up as he emerged. As it happened, though, it turned out to be a needless precaution.

“Status,” he barked, his voice taking on its typical menacing quality through the modulating effects of his helmet.

“The first squadron is engaged,” came the quick response, though Ben noticed the thread of anxiety that laced the officer’s voice, “and the second is en route, sir.”

“We’ve already taken on casualties, sir,” another voice interjected. “It’s as if they knew we were coming.”

Ben paused, pondering the tone and concluding that this speculation was offered in an air of anxiety bordering on panic, rather than accusation. Of course, they had known the First Order was coming, since he’d been the one to leak the information. He lingered a moment longer, allowing his stillness and silence to breed anxiety among the bridge crew, willing them to interpret his utter lack of response as anger, while actually attempting to manage his own anxiety.

If the First Order was already experiencing casualties, then the Resistance likely was as well. He forcefully pushed the nagging thought away, knowing it did him no good to worry over whether or not she was already dead. Clenching his fist tight and hearing the creaking protest of his glove, he forced himself to recognize she was quite skilled in battle. She could handle two squadrons of stormtroopers by herself and still emerge without a scratch. No, he didn’t need to worry about her. But he did need to worry about getting his ass down there.

“Prepare my fighter. I’ll see to this myself.”

Satisfied by the leap in activity and anxiety that followed his proclamation, Ben turned from the bridge, purposefully exuding an air of fury and focus as he strode through the _Finalizer_ , never having more felt like he was playing a role than he did then. Reaching his TIE Fighter, though, he appreciated how effective a role it was, the ship already prepped and ready to launch by the time he arrived. Wasting no time in striding aboard, he took the ship out far more quickly than was his usual practice, and only then breathed a sigh of relief.

Winding his way through the confusing mass of fighters circling the star destroyer, he dodged and evaded a few shots aimed in his direction, but otherwise ignored the ongoing dogfight. An exploding X-wing to the starboard drew his attention briefly and he set his jaw, accelerating toward the planet and knowing he needed to get this done. The longer he delayed, the more people died.

After a less than graceful landing, Ben stood and took a moment to remove the helmet from his head. Throwing it aside, he allowed it one, sorrowful look, indulging in a moment of reflecting how different everything would have been had he never accepted it and all that went with it. Shaking his head firmly, and dismissing it forever from his mind, he climbed out of the fighter and dropped to the ground, striving toward his fate.

He felt her immediately, so much stronger than he’d sensed her from orbit. Turning his face in her direction, he used the length of his legs to eat up the space between his landing and the fighting. As the sounds of struggle and blaster fire drew nearer, he ignited his distinctive cross-bladed lightsaber, but only to deflect stray shots that ventured too close to him. It wouldn’t do for him to be taken down by a random Resistance fighter or, even worse, by friendly fire before he’d even managed to reach her. But he also made sure to deflect the shots upward, into the tree canopy where singed leaves were likely the worst of the damage they would inflict.

Though he knew exactly where she was, the moment she came into view nevertheless struck him hard and heavy. As though helpless to do anything else, he paused, mindlessly indulging in a moment to admire her form, her strength, her oneness with the Force. She had come so far and, astonishingly, he found he took pride in that, even though he’d had nothing whatsoever to do with it. Feeling the weight in his heart, he forced his feet to move forward once more, nevertheless grateful that he’d had this last opportunity to witness what she had become.

He knew the moment she noticed him, felt it like a stab to his core through the Force. Reacting almost without thought, he swung his blade high, redirecting a blue bolt of energy into the trees, never losing his connection with her gaze once he’d caught it. He saw the fierce determination in her eyes and he tried to match it, but was certain he failed. All he could feel was sorrow.

The tempo of his steps increased as he covered the ground toward her. He watched as she turned her body toward him, bringing her magnificent dual-bladed, bright white lightsaber to bear, her lips pulling back in a vicious sneer as she sought what she had yet to realize he was here to offer her willingly. Deflecting one last bolt and seeing her raise her weapon with the start of a battle cry intended to lend her extra strength, Ben thumbed his lightsaber off and dropped to his knees at her feet, his head bowed and his eyes closed.

 _Do it_ , he thought desperately. _End me. End my misery_.

To his dismay though not surprise, he felt moisture collect beneath his lids as he awaited the sensation of her blade slicing into and through his neck. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he lifted his face to her, wishing away the single tear than tumbled haphazardly along the scar on his cheek but helpless to stop it.

“Do it!” he hissed at her, attempting to inject anger and intimidation into his eyes and suspecting he failed miserably. “Kill me!”

But her expression was tight in confusion, and she could only stare at him. Belatedly, he realized he should have left his helmet on. It had been a supreme act of selfishness that he wanted to die with his face free to the air, nothing impeding his view of her as she took her righteous vengeance. But now he understood it was the unfamiliar sight of his face, the undeniable proof of his humanity that impeded her.

“Cut off the head of the snake and the body will die,” he told her, desperate for her to finish this.

Casting his senses outward, he felt at least a few stormtroopers having paused in their various efforts to watch as their Supreme Leader appeared to have been bested in combat. He knew the time was ripe. His defeat at the last Jedi’s hands would become the stuff of legends. That, paired with the discovery of Hux’s death would remove any last vestige of this war’s righteousness in the minds of the First Order. It may not happen immediately, but he had made it inevitable. All she needed to do was take this final step, end him just like she’d always wanted to do. It was the only thing he would have ever been able to give her. And it would have to be enough.

But, still, she hesitated. She gazed down on him with confusion and concern in her eyes. And he saw her doubt.

“Rey!” he growled fiercely, but his intent was lost as his voice carried too much of the desperation he felt piercing his heart.

His eyes flickered frantically between her face and her weapon as he saw a decision form in her eyes and her lightsaber disengaged. His body reacted, rising to force her to his bidding, the sudden flash of red swiping between them as she leapt deftly back.

“Kill me,” he hissed at her, his voice deliberately pitched low to maintain the privacy of his words as he advanced on her.

“No,” she said stubbornly as she backed away, refusing to even bring her weapon to bear.

He swung his blade, confident in his ability to make his attack look real to the numerous onlookers, even though both he and Rey knew it to be false. Then, to his utter astonishment, she closed her eyes and he felt her pushing at his mind. Recognizing the expediency of the effort, he let her in, communicating with her in a flash just what he’d been up to for the past year and what she needed to do now in order to realize his endgame. It would see the Resistance as victors of the war, the First Order descending into disorder and chaos, she as the hero of it all for having singlehandedly dispatched the ruthless Supreme Leader Kylo Ren. But instead of convincing her, instead of bringing her to understand the necessity of her role in this plan, he felt her latch onto the most inconsequential of details.

He thought of himself as Ben.

He didn’t know when precisely it had happened, but he’d slowly come to realize how discordant the name Kylo Ren felt in his mind. Somehow, he had come to associate the name with Snoke, who had never failed to use both monikers when addressing him. He couldn’t think the name without hearing it in his dead master’s hissing voice and, although he’d maintained it for the purposes of retaining control over the First Order, he’d long ago dismissed it in the privacy of his own thoughts.

Which were no longer his own because she was here, sharing them.

And as she stared up at him, her eyes filled with wonder, he saw the fruits of his labor crashing down around him, everything he’d so carefully planned for her lost in an instant because she found out he thought of himself as _Ben_. Infuriated to an extent only Hux had been able to drive him for so long now, Ben lifted his weapon and howled at her, demanding through the mental connection she had established that she accept his sacrifice and make it look damn good. Through the eyes of her troopers and his, the galaxy was watching. And as he swung, knowing the threat he posed to be completely empty and not having any conception of what he was going to do when she continued to call his bluff, he felt her accept his perspective. But instead of igniting and raising her lightsaber to cut him down, she raised an empty hand and he fell instantly into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love the title of this chapter, don't you?!
> 
> This is just a little one-shot that grew bigger than I expected. Please let me know what you think! I always love hearing from my readers and responding to every one!!!


	2. A Prison of Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben thinks his plan is still salvageable, but Rey’s just not having it.

Jerking awake with a shout, Ben found himself in a dank, dirty cell. Constructed primarily of roots and branches, he supposed it was the best the Resistance could do on such a primitive planet. But it was laughable to imagine anyone believing it could contain him. Of course, he wasn’t much in a mood for laughing. Or escaping, for that matter. Weeping. That was more his mood. Or curling up in a ball, or knocking his head repeatedly against one of these impossibly thick roots. As pathetic as it made him feel, that was his speed at the moment.

He should be dead. Not _should be_ as in _couldn’t possibly have overcome the odds with which he’d been faced_ , but as in _deserved_ to be. It was a fundamental truth to which he’d been inexorably drawn many months ago. And the only reason he hadn’t achieved that final status already was a ridiculous desire to make his death stand for something good, as if that could hope to balance out the evil laden on his soul. He couldn’t believe, after all this time and all their battles, that she hadn’t leapt at the opportunity to end him. But it didn’t anger him; it saddened him. As if he needed help in that regard. Frustrated, despairing, and forlorn, he turned on his side, presenting his back to anyone who might be inclined to look in on him through the ridiculously insecure door, and pressed his face into the dirt, at least grateful for the ability to feel the Force so much more clearly than he’d ever been able to in space. Which is why, given his closer connection to all nature and life surrounding him, he was both surprised and not when her arrival startled him.

He felt the tension grip his body as he sensed her entering his prison and settling to the ground behind him, but he didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge her in any way. Ensuring his mind was well and truly isolated from hers, he closed his eyes and breathed harsh and shallow as he willed the ache in his heart to subside. This could be salvaged. The troopers had seen her take him down through her access to the Force, but he still needed to die. It might not have to be her to do it now, but the end result for him was the same.

“The First Order has withdrawn,” she finally offered after an enduring silence.

He knew they would, but still it was nice to have confirmation that at least _some_ part of his plan hadn’t gone completely to shit. Despite himself, Ben found his head nodding slightly. He’d noticed the distant sounds of revelry and celebration, and it made more sense now. They were celebrating _triumph_ , rather than merely survival. He wished she would return to rejoice with her friends rather than torture him with her presence and her voice, but as soon as the idea crossed his mind, he was forced to admit the falsehood. He _wanted_ her here with him, though he knew he _shouldn’t_. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of the dirt, willing the tightness in his chest to resolve itself.

“I know what you’ve done,” she said, her voice low and soft. “And I have to thank you for it.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” he snapped instinctively, knowing even as the rebuttal left his mouth how much of a lie it was. Of course, he had. He’d done it _all_ for her, just not for the Resistance.

“Then why did you?”

He held his tongue this time, his shoulders hunching further into the dirt and away from her, as if the broad expanse of his back could possibly shield his heart from her presence. He was gratified to know she hadn’t discerned the motivations behind his actions when she’d delved into his mind. Or maybe she’d simply stopped looking for answers after she’d become aware of his profound disrespect for his acquired name. Either way, she clearly didn’t know how prominently she figured in his thoughts. And it had to stay that way.

“You need to execute me,” he pointed out to her, even though it seemed too obvious that she should already be aware of this simple fact. “Very publicly and very soon.”

She didn’t respond and he could feel her eyes digging into his back as she pondered his words. He forced himself to remain utterly still, despite the discomfort of knowing she was here with him, watching him.

“Why?” she finally whispered, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the note of dismay he imagined in her tone.

“It will give you a position of strength from which to negotiate.”

“Negotiate what?”

“Peace,” he muttered, annoyed that he had to explain these things to her.

She paused yet again, silent as he concentrated on the sensation of his blood pulsing painfully through his body.

“Peace,” she murmured with an iron edge to her voice, “through death. That’s definitely Dark Side thinking.”

He jerked, one shoulder falling back as he turned to confront her before he recognized that was likely her aim, to get a rise out of him, to get him to properly confront her. Rather than give into her strategy, though, he slowly returned himself to his previous posture. He heard her breathe a careful sigh and knew he’d disappointed her. And he revised his previous assessment. He really did wish she’d go away now. It was just too painful having her so near.

“Why are you so eager to die?”

 _To keep you safe_.

He bit back the response firmly, inadvertently drawing blood from his lip in the process. “To end the war.”

“Why?”

Ben sighed heavily, his patience suddenly gone. “You have a real problem with gratitude, don’t you?”

“When someone expects _me_ to facilitate his _suicide_ , yes, I have a problem with that.”

“Suicide wouldn’t accomplish anything. This will.”

“It would accomplish your death. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“You don’t have the first clue what I want!”

Ben didn’t know how it had happened, but he found himself confronting her, his face inches from hers as he howled out his pain on his hands and knees. Frozen in shock by his weakness, he stared angrily into her astonished countenance, then withdrew swiftly with a viciously muttered curse. Feeling as though it would be even more of a defeat now should he attempt to turn his back to her once again, he resisted the temptation. Instead, he retreated to the spot from whence he’d come, propping his back against the enormous root. Settling an elbow on his knee, he rubbed roughly at his eyes.

“As long as I’m alive, there are enough in the Order who will never stop fighting,” he explained as calmly as he could. “Destroy me, and you destroy their will to carry on.”

He listened to her silence as she pondered his words. “You must have some really devoted followers, huh?”

He peered at her beyond his hand, leveling her with a heavily sardonic look, entirely unappreciative of her sarcasm. But when she met his gaze unwaveringly, he found he couldn’t sustain it. With a slight shake of his head, he propped his face in his hand again, deciding it just wasn’t worth looking into her eyes. Not when she looked at him like _that_.

“You’ll need to either execute me publicly, or display my body publicly. Either will be just as effective. Both would be even better.”

“Stop it,” she commanded suddenly in a highly impatient tone. “No one’s executing you.”

“I’m certain FN-2187 wouldn’t mind volunteering.”

“FN… Finn? No, Finn wouldn’t do that.”

“Hm. Maybe you should ask him,” Ben responded, feeling pretty certain that the former stormtrooper would be only too happy to carry out Kylo Ren’s execution. He sighed angrily when he peeked past his hand and saw her scowling darkly at him. “Come on, R— You should be happy for this chance, after all the times you’ve tried to kill me.”

“That’s different.”

“Not in the least.”

“Yes, it is!” she shouted. “You were trying to kill me too!”

“No,” he stated flatly, dropping both his hand and his knee, leaning forward to show her the full extent of his grim sincerity, “that’s not true. I _never_ wanted to kill you.”

She squinted her eyes at him.

“Think about it,” he challenged her. “Every time we fought, you were the one out for blood. I was only concerned with blocking your attack.”

“Or abducting me!”

“Perhaps,” he conceded easily with a slight lift of one shoulder, “but never to kill you.”

She twisted her mouth at him in skepticism, her gaze falling away from his eyes to land upon his cheek.

“Yes,” he confirmed, his fingers rising to touch the scar she’d left him with so long ago, “not even when you marked me.”

He watched, his gaze dark but his mind fascinated as she sorted through every time they’d encountered one another, starting more than two years ago on Takodana. Slowly, he saw the skepticism fade from her countenance, her mouth untwisting as she inventoried her memory and found the truth of his words. He’d defended himself and even driven her back, but, with her own combat experience, she could now perceive that even their early encounters were not about her destruction.

“On Crait,” she said abruptly, her eyes narrowing with the memory. “Everyone heard you. You vowed to destroy me.”

Ben turned his face aside. _Crait_. Hell, she _would_ bring up Crait…

“I was upset,” he spat out softly, knowing his explanation to be wholly inadequate.

“About _what_?”

 _You’d just broken my heart_.

He didn’t say it, of course, _wouldn’t_ say it. But he felt its effects again, as though it had just happened. Briefly, he attempted to come up with a plausible substitute, but his mind couldn’t get past the dull ache in his chest, so he gave up and just remained in stony silence. But the damage was done. He recalled the moments following Snoke’s death so clearly, the profound unity he’d experienced with her as they fought the Praetorian guard, his overwhelming sense of belonging with her and his conviction that she was meant to be with him. He’d expressed all this to her…and she’d rejected him. He supposed he should just be pleased she hadn’t bothered to kill him before she’d run away. Then again, if she had, he would’t have had to deal with any of the shit he’d dealt with since…

“Why are you here?” he demanded suddenly, having reached his bearable limit.

“To determine why _you’re_ here.”

“You know,” he insisted. “I showed you. You saw.”

“Alright,” she agreed calmly enough. “Then I’m here to figure out what to do with you.”

“I’ve already told you.”

“I’m not going to murder you,” she sighed heavily in exasperation.

“I already told you, FN—”

“Finn’s not going to murder you either.”

“I’m sure you can get any number of volunteers—”

“No one’s going to murder you, Kylo! So just give it up!”

He turned aside sharply again, despising the sound of that name in her voice. Damn it all, this was not how this was supposed to happen. Given her bloodlust on every other occasion in which they’d met, he’d assumed she would take the opportunity to lop off his head with no questions asked. Then again, he’d expected her to take his hand when he’d murdered his master in order to save her life. This woman just kept surprising him in all the worst ways. Why couldn’t she understand the necessity of what he was offering? Here he was, handing her the solutions to everything she wanted, and she was acting like a stubborn, petulant child. Why couldn’t she see that he didn’t matter any more, that _all_ that mattered was her, that he would take any step necessary to ensure her safety and wellbeing? He _knew_ how the First Order thought. He _knew_ how to achieve the leverage the Resistance would need over them. And yet…

“I don’t understand you…”

Ben looked at her incredulously. _She_ didn’t understand _him_? But he quickly found he couldn’t endure her expression of deep consternation, so he sighed and looked away.

“You don’t need to,” he muttered quietly. “Just…” He sighed again. “I don’t know what I can say that will convince you.”

She looked at him for a long moment, then moved toward him, drawing his attention and making him wary. Subconsciously, he pressed back into the root behind him, but it offered no space to shrink away from her. He felt his pulse accelerating as she drew near. and he swallowed against the tension in his throat. Her eyes… Gods, they were so beautiful and he’d never had a proper opportunity to admire them, at least not when they weren’t clouded by a dark, vicious intent. He clenched his hands into fists against the instinct to draw her nearer, encasing her in his arms just to indulge in the sensation once before dying. But he’d accepted long ago that such fantasies could never be fulfilled. He knew how best to help her, and he wouldn’t waver now.

She settled before him, her legs folded beneath her, her hands resting atop her thighs. She was just beyond his reach, and he felt gratitude for that, uncertain he could fully resist the urge to reach out and touch her were she so readily accessible. But the intensity of her gaze was overwhelming, and he swallowed anxiously, pulling his eyes from hers. Unfortunately, the next feature to catch his attention was her lips, which made his difficulties distinctly…harder. Pulling one leg toward his chest, he hoped she hadn’t discerned the reason behind his discomfort, and then his heart stopped when she spoke.

“Show me.”

He stared, his eyes wide and unbelieving, frozen by indecision.

“Open up and show me.”

Desperate to believe she wasn’t referring to what he feared she was, he shook his head imperceptibly. She sighed in frustration.

“There were answers there,” she complained. “I saw it when you showed me outside. If you won’t _tell_ me what I need to understand, then _show_ me.”

Abruptly realizing she was asking him to admit her to his _mind_ , Ben couldn’t decide if he was relieved or terrified. Either way, he knew he couldn’t let her see what he really thought, what he _felt_. It wouldn’t only make matters worse.

“No,” he stated unequivocally.

“Why did you—?”

“Because I needed you to get it, to understand what was at stake, and fast.”

“But I don’t get it, so—”

“No.”

She stared at him through another silent duration, far too close for comfort, then withdrew in defeat. He stifled an impulse to sigh in relief as her gaze dropped from his and she moved away, then closed his eyes against the urge to draw her back to him. _She’s not yours. She never will be_. He couldn’t believe how much reminding himself of such simple truths hurt, and he cursed internally, recalling he shouldn’t have been here at all. Where the hell had he gone wrong?

Sitting well away from him now, she gave him one last pensive look.

“I just don’t know what to do with you.”

He shrugged. “I’ve already told you, R—”

He cut himself off abruptly and looked away, swallowing convulsively. Unfortunately, of course, she noticed.

Speaking with unbearable softness, she spoke what he’d hoped to avoid. “Why can’t you say my name?”

And there was just no good way to handle the issue, so he merely folded his arms against his chest and brought one fist up to cover his mouth as his eyes focused intently on the intricate interlacing of branches that created his pathetically insecure prison. He could feel her watching him intently for an unendurable length of time, until she finally sighed in evident defeat.

“I’ll come back in the morning.”

He didn’t respond as she gained her feet then hesitated, looking at him, before turning toward the flimsy door. And it was then, as she re-secured the ridiculously unsecurable door that he finally deigned to respond.

“Don’t forget to bring your lightsaber,” he snarked, earning himself one last glare through the branches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, what's left unsaid between these two is just DEAFENING, isn't it?!?!?
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think!!!


	3. An Unexpected Truce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben responds to Rey’s need for help and receives aid from two surprising sources.

Ben awoke with a fright. Sitting erect in the dark, empty cell he reached out with his senses to determine what had waken him. For the first time, he noticed the shield she had erected around his little prison, using the living roots and branches themselves to augment the structure she’d created in the Force. Suddenly, his cell seemed far less ridiculous, and his neglect in having noticed this hidden layer of security before now far more conspicuous. But, it certainly was not the focus of his concern at the moment.

It was dark and silent out beyond his isolated prison. He recalled the distant sounds of revelry from earlier in the day, and surmised he must be very far, indeed, from the main camp. But now, no such sounds were discernible. Instinct and subtle hints from the surrounding nature informed him that it was deep in the night, well past the midpoint but yet hours from dawn. Surely she was in her bed, wherever that was, dreaming away of the Resistance’s good fortune in their victory, sleeping perhaps more soundly and peacefully than she ever had before.

Seized by the sudden desire, Ben couldn’t stop himself from venturing out toward her through the Force. He sensed her presence, just as always, and he skimmed carefully over the surface of her mind, careful not to press so hard as to alert her to his efforts. She was, indeed, asleep, and her mind was so blissfully open in her slumber. With a soft curse inside his head, Ben lamented that he wouldn’t be around to teach her how to secure her mind, even in her sleep. Of course, once he was gone, there wouldn’t be anyone left strong enough for her to guard against.

Her mind was…so entrancing…so beautiful. He wasn’t deep enough to discern any actual thoughts or dreams or impulses, but he could bask in the general _feel_ of her, knowing he would be given no further chances. Pained by the heartbreak he always felt when he indulged in such intimate contemplations, he reluctantly withdrew, knowing his intrusion to be just that, to mention nothing of self-inflicted torture.

But as he drew his consciousness back, he became aware once more of the abiding silence. It was so absolute as to feel overwhelming, and Ben slowly became aware that it made him distinctly uncomfortable. It was another moment, however, before he could discern why.

Insects. There were none. More precisely, he knew there _were_ some, because he could sense their multitudinous presence, but there were no _sounds_ of them. They were utterly silent as far as his ears could reach, and his instinct was suddenly clamoring inside his head.

Thrusting forward with his consciousness once more, he delved deep and without hesitation into her mind, startled to find her engaged in a dream…of _him_. Equally fascinated and frightened, he saw enough to recognize her subconscious expression of her frustration over his refusal to provide answers, but pushed past it, knowing he couldn’t indulge such frivolousness right now.

_Rey_ , he called inexorably, uncertain this could actually work. _Rey, wake up, there’s something wrong_.

He felt her mind stirring against him and had only begun to notice how much he enjoyed that sensation, when a distant scream reached his ears. Abruptly on edge, he pushed harder inside her mind.

_Rey!_

And, just as she became aware of his intrusion, he felt a sudden spike of alarm and panic. A chorus of distant screams reached Ben in his prison, but the sound was much closer to her, and he felt his own fear spike.

_Rey! What’s going on!_

_We’re being attacked!_

Too consumed by fear to make much of the fact that she had spoken directly in his mind, Ben surged to his feet. Lunging at the door, he felt himself shoved backward by her Force shield.

_Let me out!_

_No!_ she responded with just enough hesitation that he sensed she was engaged in battle. _They’re here for you_.

_Of course, they are! You should have killed me right away._

_Not helping, Ren!_

He grit his teeth in frantic irritation. Damnit, why hadn’t he considered that they might pull a stunt like this? The stormtrooper witnesses surely knew he’d been taken alive, so they had withdrawn from the battle in order to strategize a rescue mission. What he couldn’t know, though, was whether they intended to rescue their Supreme Leader or capture a traitor and fugitive. It all hinged on what they made of Hux’s death.

Not that it mattered. He wasn’t going back to the First Order tonight. Even if he had to break down and die by his own hand, he would see it done. In fact, maybe he should just do that now, effectively removing the invaders’ incentive for even being here.

_Don’t you dare!_

Shaken by the realization that, not only was she speaking in his mind, but she was also apparently sensing his thoughts, he argued with her.

_It’s a sound plan._

_No, it’s not. If you die alone in there, they won’t even know._ I _certainly won’t tell them!_

Ben cursed. She had a good point.

_You’ll just have to_ —

He drew to an abrupt halt in his agitated pacing when her voice cut off unexpectedly. He stood stock still, waiting for her to resume, to demonstrate she’d only been momentarily distracted by her battle. But she didn’t come back. And, still, she remained silent.

_Rey?_

He waited for a response, his breath stilled in his body.

_Rey!_

Still lacking any response, Ben ran at the door. The impact of his shoulder shattered the tangle of branches on impact, but her Force shield held and its energy threw him back against the giant root. Gasping at the power seizing his body, he struggled to stay upright, frantically hoping that she’d sense his attempts to physically break through her Force barrier and come roaring back at him, admonishing him angrily for trying to escape. But she was still stubbornly, alarmingly silent. Shaking the last of the dizzying effects from his mind, Ben sprinted at the door once again, only to end up at the enormous root once more. Thrown all the way down flat this time, he felt his head ringing and spinning. Fighting nausea, he was forced to admit that he wouldn’t be able to break through her barrier. She’d simply grown too strong. Suppressing a wholly untimely spike of renewed attraction to her at the revelation, Ben refocused his mental efforts.

_Rey, you gotta let me out._

With still no response, he closed his eyes and pushed even further inside her mind. Astonishingly, pressing through into her subconscious wasn’t nearly as difficult as he’d anticipated. Deliberately shoving aside suggestive speculations regarding why this might be, Ben focused on communicating with her. Unfortunately, he found her subconscious in a wild cacophony of turmoil: alarm, confusion, and—amazingly— _desire_ tangling there in no semblance of order. Recognizing the jumble of impulses and sensations that occupied a mind currently without conscious control, Ben realized why Rey had stopped speaking. She wasn’t dead, but he couldn’t determine how close she was to it. Following a desperate instinct and, once again, refusing to give it the time for reflection that it seemed to demand, Ben plunged for the knot of desire he’d sensed in her subconscious and concentrated every bit of mental energy he had there.

_Rey, let me out. Let me help you._

He felt her hesitation, as if this part of her mind wasn’t at all used to making such decisions.

_Rey, you’re in trouble! Let me come to you!_

Dimly, Ben wondered if it was his appeal to her survival or perhaps his suggestive yet wholly inadvertent choice of phrasing that convinced her. Regardless which did it, he felt the shield go down and he ran through the now wide open door. Keeping a thread on Rey so he could find her, Ben diverted a portion of his energies toward locating the unknown threat. It was easy to do, the stormtroopers being in full mayhem mode. He cursed at how horribly he had miscalculated the effect of Rey’s failure to kill him on the battlefield.

Running flat out, it didn’t take long before the sounds of battle enveloped him. His senses flinging haphazardly in every direction, he was dismayed to find so many of the Resistance fighters already lying dead or severely wounded. Ben estimated that the stormtroopers must have managed to maintain the stealthy portion of their mission for a good long while, and he felt sick with the realization that he once would have been pleased by their efforts. By the time he came across the first troopers, he was so nauseous with self-loathing and fear for Rey that he didn’t hold back as he shoved out with the Force, knocking white-clad soldiers from his path without a care for their wellbeing.

At last, he was able to identify in which hovel he would find Rey. But, as he approached, he was confused by the sounds of a lightsaber engaged in battle inside. Bursting through the thick hanging that served as a door, Ben stifled the instinctual impulse toward fury when he found FN-2187 wielding _his_ lightsaber. A quick look and he spotted Rey, bloodied and unconscious behind him. Another instant, and Ben recognized he was fighting back the two troopers before him to keep them from getting to her…and he was losing.

Acting on instinct, Ben reached out for Rey’s lightsaber lying useless at her side, grateful that it responded so readily to his call. Thumbing the switch, he immediately burned his thigh as the lower blade skimmed right past it, he having never handled a dual-bladed saber before. Embracing the flash of pain, he rounded on the two troopers and took them down with aplomb, burning himself twice more in the process. But before he could barely register the second trooper’s fall, FN-2187 was crying out and attempting to take Ben down with his own lightsaber. Raising Rey’s white blade to catch his red one, his startled, desperate gaze met his attacker’s furious, murderous one. Abruptly and instinctively bucking the opportune moment to die at the hands of the Resistance, Ben took the first course of action that occurred to him despite that it certainly wouldn’t have been his first choice under normal circumstances. Later, he would wonder why his solution hadn’t been to knock the former stormtrooper unconscious, or Force sleep him, or any number of things besides what he did.

He pulled Rey’s friend into his mind and showed him what she meant to him.

He exposed the most dearly held secrets of his mind to the one person in the galaxy—now that Hux was dead—who probably hated him most. In a flash, the traitor knew the entirety of Kylo Ren’s infatuation with a scavenger girl from Jakku, one who inexplicably held such promise in the Force, though that could account for only a fraction of his interest in her. He saw Ben destroy the Supreme Leader rather than succumb to his master’s commands to kill her, followed hard upon by the heartbreak of her rejection. He learned that Ben had withdrawn from participating in the First Order’s various battles with the Resistance because it simply hurt too much to witness her desperate drive to destroy him. And he bore witness to Ben’s decision to weaken and sabotage the First Order, concluding with his own death…all for her, to ensure her safety. Because he loved her. He loved her with such profundity that he ached just to be near her, though being apart was cause for equal agony. He loved her such that he would gladly die for her, putting everything of himself and his life in her hands…and those of her friends.

Bared emotionally before his former subordinate, Ben straightened and slowly disengaged, sheathing and dropping Rey’s lightsaber at the first possible moment. He stood there, awaiting FN’s judgment, meeting his gaze squarely and resisting the powerful urge to glance aside in embarrassment. Ben watched as his astonishment slowly melded into a jealous fury, one that clearly communicated his own hopes where Rey was concerned. And Ben nodded.

“Please take care of her,” he murmured, his heart aching as he accepted that the moment of his death had arrived.

He knew FN had seen his plan, just as Rey had, and, unlike her, he know the former stormtrooper would not hesitate to do what was needed in that regard. Although his execution would not be broadcast to all First Order planets, the image of his body would be. FN would see to it that none could doubt that the First Order’s Supreme Leader was dead, and the Resistance would claim its victory. Seeing that strength of conviction in his eyes, Ben allowed himself one last glimpse of Rey before he closed his eyes, for the first time wishing he could have told her how he felt just once before death claimed him.

The familiar sound of Ben’s sheathing lightsaber had him opening his eyes again. FN stood before him, his gaze soft and sympathetic, an expression Ben had never seen there before. With a sardonic twist of his mouth, his eyes flickered swiftly down toward Rey.

“Go to her,” he said.

Stunned, Ben wasted only a moment before scrambling his way to her. Scooping her into his arms, he swiftly ran his hands above her body, assessing the extent of her injuries. Looking around, it seemed she had fallen backward and hit her head upon a low table, the blood coming only from surface wounds that were of little concern. In fact, Ben, with his three self-inflicted plasma burns, was in worse condition than she. Carefully and tenderly, he felt the knot at the back of her head, then laid his hand against it to assess any internal injuries. Finding only the expectant swelling attendant to a strike of the head, he looked up at FN.

“She’ll be alright,” he reported in relieved tones. “She just needs to sleep it off.”

Ben watched him nod, uncertain whether the reprieve he’d offered was intended to be for a few minutes, hours, days, or what, and he had the impression the former stormtrooper didn’t quite know either. FN gazed at Rey in Ben’s arms for a moment with a deeply pensive look on his face, then walked silently from the hovel, leaving him alone with her. With utmost care, Ben lifted her from the floor and moved with her toward an oddly shaped bed that nestled into the curving wall of the hut. In the absence of anyone else to object — other than his own conscience, which he clearly wasn’t much good at heeding — Ben laid both her and himself down upon the bed, pulling her close against him as she slept, feeling the even pull of her breath in and out of her body. Having never thought to find himself in such a position and knowing it to be all too temporary, he indulged, silently declaring this his last entirely selfish act before sacrificing himself for her cause. His fingers stroked the edge of her hair, feeling its silky lengths, and he placed a single tender kiss on her brow, feeling his heart tremble and shatter inside his chest as he contemplated leaving her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone knows "FN" is Finn, right? Just making sure...!
> 
> Please tell me what you all think! I live for your comments!!!!!


	4. Everybody's Stubborn

She was next to him, the full length of her body pressed against him. And she _wanted_ to be there, sharing his heat. Her hand lay on his bare chest, her fingers stroking him languidly, and he felt the stirrings of arousal that he could never fully contain when it came to thoughts of her. He could smell her scent, feel the incredible softness of her skin as she pressed against him. And his mind swirled in heights of ecstasy when she pressed her lips to his neck. Moaning in repressed desire, he leaned his head back, silently pleading with her to kiss him again, though he was too proud to ask. But he did turn toward her, flinging his leg over hers to draw her close, only then realizing they were both entirely naked. His cock springing fully to life, he pressed himself against her impossible warmth and cradled her head, seeking to draw her into the kiss he’d dreamt of for so very, very long. But then her fingers touched his cheek, dipping into the slight crease of his scar…

Ben inhaled sharply and his body piked, bringing him halfway to sitting. Blinking in dazed confusion, he looked down and found her tucked into his side, both of them fully clothed. She was awake and watching him with wide eyes, her fingers trapped between his hand and his cheek, pressed there to halt her exploration of the scar she’d given him. Releasing her hand quickly, he mumbled his apologizes over and over, but when he muttered something about moving, she laid her hand flat against his chest.

“No, don’t go,” she said.

Ben froze, torn between what he _wanted_ to do and what he _should_ do. Hovering in indecision, she delivered the coup de grâce when she whispered against his chest, “ _Please_ …” Against his better judgement, Ben slowly settled onto his back, hoping she didn’t or hadn’t already noticed the lingering effects of his dream and her proximity, his own acute awareness of the thickening in his trousers making it entirely impossible for him to relax.

“What happened?” she murmured after some time.

“You hit your head.”

“No… I mean…” She sighed, clearly frustrated by her inability to think entirely straight.

“It was a raid,” he explained, negating her need to find the right words.

He felt her nod slightly. He hesitated, knowing what needed to be said but desperately wishing he didn’t have to. It was that inclination toward weakness, though, that convinced him he had to do it.

“They were here for me. As long as they know I’m alive, they will try again.”

He waited for her to make the logical conclusion, but she remained steadfastly silent. Either she was dense or she was stubborn, and Ben was pretty sure he knew which it was.

“You know what you need to do.”

She lifted her head then, propping herself up on her elbow, and looked him directly in the eye. Her expression was grim, but also determined.

“I’m not going to kill you.”

Ben grit his teeth and looked away, saying bitterly, “Go look around your camp and see how many people you lost before you make that decision.”

She was silent and still, absorbing the undeniable truth of his words. He stifled a frustrated sigh at her stubbornness, and she wasn’t quite as successful in obscuring her exasperation as she pushed against his chest to roll away from him. Instinct had him attempting to hold her to his side for an instant before he managed to recall he had no right to do so. He watched with profound sadness as she moved away from him, and he pushed himself up to swing his legs over the edge of the bed.

“You’re injured,” she said by way of explanation as she moved across the little hut to retrieve a stash of medical supplies.

Surprised, Ben made a quick inventory of his condition, only then noticing the throbbing pain of his three plasma burns.

“It’s nothing,” he said dismissively, earning himself a wry look as she settled back down next to him and took his arm in her hands.

Deciding that being tended to by her, with all the touching such ministrations required, wasn’t so horrible, he watched in silence as she carefully pulled and cut at the fabric surrounding his burn until its edges were exposed. He stifled a sharp inhale as her fingers came into contact with his pale skin, and firmly told himself it was entirely his imagination that her touch lingered a moment longer than strictly necessary. But then she was looking up at him in surprise and confusion.

“This is a saber burn,” she said, to which he merely nodded. “I thought they were blaster burns. How did you get burned by a lightsaber?”

Ben quirked his mouth at her and his voice took on a tone of defensiveness. “I’ve never used a dual-bladed saber before.”

“You used _my_ lightsaber?” she exclaimed, her eyes widening still further.

He shrugged. “FN was using mine.”

She forced the air from her chest in a harsh sigh, her face bowing away from him in exaggerated annoyance. “Please stop calling him that.”

“Alright,” he agreed easily enough. “ _Finn_ was using mine, and not very well.”

She shot him a narrow-eyed glare, but didn’t respond as she turned her attention back to his wound. His arm lay across her lap with his palm facing upward, and he took advantage of her focus to watch her undisturbed. As her fingers moved delicately and carefully over his raw skin, he thought of all the times he’d seen her wield the saber that had burned him. Ironic that it had never once charred his skin until she’d no longer wanted it to. Even more ironic that she hadn’t been the one to wield it when it did. It suddenly occurred to him just how much he could learn from her about staff combat, and he lost himself in imagining her teaching him, guiding him. When his imagination devolved into him gripping her wrist and pulling her into his body so he could lean down to kiss her in the middle of sparring, his arm jerked in surprise and she looked up at him in alarm.

“What did I do?”

“Nothing,” he answered gruffly, suddenly needing her much further away from him. “I can take care of the rest.”

“But I’m almost done,” she objected as he pulled his arm out of her grasp.

“You’re done now.”

“Don’t be such a baby, Kylo!”

“ _Don’t_ —” he spat suddenly, far more violently than he’d intended to. He closed his eyes, taking a long, careful breath to calm himself. “Don’t use that name,” he ground out, adding a decidedly gentler _please_ as an afterthought.

“Fine,” she said, her choice of word snippy though her tone was anything but. “Don’t be such a baby, _Ben_.”

“I’m _definitely_ not being a baby,” he grumbled irritably, thinking of the reaction he was still fighting in his trousers.

Her eyes froze wide on him, and he knew she had picked up something of what he’d meant when her cheeks flushed slightly. Gritting his teeth in annoyance when he started cataloging _other_ ways he could make her flesh blush, he looked away from her harshly though he didn’t quite have the emotional strength to withdraw from her further than that. She sat rigid and silent next to him for a moment before she carefully drew breath.

“Let me finish this,” she suggested in a soft, infinitely reasonable tone, “then this other one on your shoulder, and I’ll leave that last one to you.”

Ben looked down at the worst of the burns, a three-inch gash that crossed the inner edge of his thigh. Not only would it be substantially difficult for him to manage the wound on his shoulder with only one available hand, but it would be distinctly easier to take care of his leg without constantly worrying whether or not she’d noticed his inevitable erection. After all, if the last fifteen minutes were a reliable indicator, all the available evidence suggested that particular body function was well and truly beyond his conscious control.

Rather than answer, Ben moved his arm toward Rey and entrusted it into her care once more. With a slight nod, she affixed a bacta patch to the wound then turned her attention to his shoulder. She worked silently and he refused to look at her again. He held himself utterly still, his body rigid with tension and the repressed desire to pull her close and bury his nose in her hair. His heart thudded heavily against his sternum, sending pulses of heartache throughout his limbs, knowing only that the longer he lingered among the living, the more danger he put her in.

“How did you get out?” she asked when she apparently could endure the silence no longer.

Somehow, Ben knew she meant the Force prison she’d placed around his pathetically inadequate prison, and he hoped that meant she was turning her mind toward the future and the rapidly approaching need to incarcerate him once again. Of course, her line of questioning was fraught with dangers she couldn’t fathom, seeing as he couldn’t very well tell her he had appealed to a small, latent desire she held for him deep in her subconscious.

“Did my shield not hold?”

And now he found himself confronted with a different dilemma. Although certain unintentionally, she had given him the means of preserving both their dignity, being able to avoid the whole issue of just how he’d convinced her unconscious mind to release him. But it also meant leading her to believe she wasn’t as strong with the Force as she thought she was. And she _was_. _So_ incredibly strong. He suspected she was even stronger than him. So now he had a choice: allow her to believe he had overcome her Force shield on his own, or expose her subconscious attraction to him. Quickly acknowledging the greater threat to her continued safety lay in undermining her faith in her own abilities, Ben decided on a _shade_ of the truth.

“No, it did,” he assured her. “I nearly knocked myself out trying to get through it.”

“So how did you?”

“You were unconscious,” he sighed, knowing she wouldn’t like even the tempered down version of what he’d done. “So you weren’t able to keep me out.”

Her fingers stilled suddenly, tension radiating as she absorbed the implications of his words. “You mean, out of my head? You were in my head?”

“I appealed to your subconscious to let me out so I could help,” he deflected, conveniently neglecting to mention just what part of her subconscious he’d addressed and how exactly he’d managed to convince it.

Though she seemed less than comfortable with the knowledge that he’d been rooting around in her mind while she was knocked out, she didn’t pursue it either. Ben assumed she was anxious about what he may have done — or learned — whilst in there, and it spoke volumes that she didn’t want to risk asking.

“Finn was with me,” she offered instead, which was a point Ben had been trying to ignore ever since he’d found her unconscious.

He locked his jaw against the overwhelming desire to ask just _why_ Finn had been in her hut with her. And he been there before the raid started, when she was asleep? Had he been asleep too? If so… _where_? He attempted to console himself with the fact that the both of them had been fully clothed, so his presence couldn’t have been _that_ , but then his damn logic had to pipe up and point out that it didn’t mean that at all. So many things he wanted to know, so many things he was _afraid_ to know, and none of it any of his business.

“I told you he’d be happy to kill me,” he pointed out sourly.

“But he didn’t,” she quickly retorted.

“He wanted to.”

“So why didn’t he?”

“I—”

Ben snapped his mouth shut, the magnitude of what he’d done in a split-moment’s decision hitting him. Finn was her friend, and he now knew… _everything_. When he’d pulled her into his head to show her his plan, he’d been careful to show her only himself, only the things he’d actually _done_. With Finn, however, instinct had convinced him that wouldn’t be enough and he hadn’t had the time to question it. So, here he was, a prisoner of the Resistance, and probably the one individual he’d most directly wronged over the course of his years as Kylo Ren knew _all_ his secrets, not only _what_ he’d done, but _why_.

“You what?”

Startled from his reverie by her gentle inquiry, Ben turned and met her gaze. She looked at him with open curiosity that quickly morphed into something else when his eyes slipped ever so briefly and ever so against his intent down to her mouth. Startled by the subtle shift in her expression that had his heart hammering and his fingers itching to pull her into his embrace, he swiftly looked away again, his throat working convulsively to contain the sudden swell of emotion.

“I’ll let him tell you,” he finally managed to grate out, silently adding … _preferably after I’m gone_.

He tried to dismiss her from his mind, to ignore the fact that he knew she was shaken by what had just passed between them, her breathing ragged and her body too still. But he couldn’t, of course, and the acute awareness of his lack of self-discipline angered him.

“Are you done yet?” he demanded suddenly, his voice far too gruff.

“Almost,” she answered in a small voice that had him regretting his tone.

Focusing with rigid discipline on a point across the tiny hut, he felt her fingers trembling as she applied the bacta patch. And this time there was no doubt that she lingered against his skin longer than was necessary. Recognizing he had strayed much too far from the path he’d set for himself, he stood abruptly, removing himself entirely from her access. He stood with his back to her, fists clenched and muscles taut in an effort to contain the tremors that betrayed his emotional state. Though already haunted by the hint of longing he’d glimpsed in her face, he firmly told himself he’d imagined it, _had_ to have done, because the thought that she could acknowledge what he already knew lay in her subconscious just _hurt_ too much. But, despite his mental recriminations, his heart ached, his stomach flipped, and his throat tightened.

“You can’t afford to delay,” he told her, his voice raw with pain, somehow finding himself unable to put direct voice to the repeated plea for his own execution. “You need to prevent this happening again.”

He could feel the tension from her wafting across the small space between them. Acutely aware of her, he knew the moment she stood without a sound and moved toward the door, but he also knew the moment she stopped and turned to face him.

“Why do you want to die?” she whispered, and this time there was no mistaking the despair in her voice.

He couldn’t handle it anymore. Because the truth was, he didn’t want to. He wanted to be with her. He always had. As long as he was convinced she wanted nothing of the sort from him, he could stay the course. But when she looked at him like that… When her voice sounded like that…

_No._ It was too late for that. Too much had been set in place. To change the course now would only put her in greater danger. And, as much as he wanted her in his arms, in his bed, and in his heart, he wanted her _alive_ more. He’d done all he could to convince her, and all he could do now was wait for her decision and attempt valiantly to contain his heartbreak.

After a prolonged eternity of silence, she sensed her step toward him. Instantly on edge, his shoulders hunched and he angled himself more fully away from her, blatantly hiding his face from her view. She stopped immediately, her breath shuddering through her throat

“I can’t decide this on my own,” she said at last, her voice slow and deliberate, under careful control. “I have to consult with command.”

Not trusting his voice as the first tear slipped from his eye, he comforted himself, knowing at least _they_ would make the right decision. When he failed to answer, she didn’t bother either. After another painfully elongated moment, he felt her depart. He sensed her lingering outside the door, and knew she was placing a new shield around him. He didn’t begrudge her that in the least, but it didn’t escape his notice that she was leaving him there, in her own hut, among her things, surround by the sensation of _her_. Indulging a moment of pitiful self-indulgence, he permitted the tears to come, but would only allow himself to moan out her name inside his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Och... Had a hard time with this one. Sorry if it's disjointed. It certainly feels that way to me. I promise the last two chapters are in much better shape than this one!!!


	5. Contemplating Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben learns his fate.

By the time she returned, he had found his composure and he sat in a chair, placidly awaiting either her arrival or his execution, whichever happened to come first. Despite his self-assurances he would be fine either way, he couldn’t entirely suppress the relief he felt when he sensed her outside the hut. But his stifled elation was short lived as he recognized her evident distress the moment she entered.

“What is it?” he demanded, rising to his feet and ready to inflict considerable harm upon whomever had upset her.

She held herself tight, unable to meet his gaze though he could clearly discern the remnants of tears tracking down her cheeks…a _lot_ of them. He clenched his fists tight, resisting the overwhelming need to strike out at her offenders as she struggled to gain enough equilibrium for coherent speech.

“Command…” she choked, her voice immediately failing.

Ben nodded, knowing they must have ordered his immediate execution, as they should, though the greater part of his consciousness was centered on the extent of her distress. Refusing to be moved by her emotional response, he gestured, encouraging her to continue.

“They contacted the First Order.”

Now _that_ surprised him, and suddenly he was in unfamiliar territory, which made him distinctly uneasy.

“You were right,” she said, though it brought him little comfort. “Their fight is gone and they want to negotiate peace.”

“What do they want?” he prodded when she hesitated.

As she had since her arrival, she continued to avoid his gaze by looking everywhere _except_ where he stood. But, abruptly, she met his gaze, revealing the great, welling depth of pain in her eyes as her tears renewed.

“You,” she moaned. “They want you. Alive. They know you killed Snoke and Hux, and they want to… They want to…”

She turned aside, weeping into her hands. Instinctively moved by her misery, he took two steps toward her before he managed to stop himself. This was just what the Resistance needed. Yes, a battlefield death by her hands would certainly have been far more merciful than what surely awaited him at the hands of an angry and vengeful though admittedly weak First Order. In fact, he was quite certain that his “execution” would first entail untold years of torture and misery in a deep, dark dungeon somewhere. But if the war was over, if Rey could stop waging never ending battle and live in peace, it would be worth it. That knowledge alone would sustain him through whatever miseries his former compatriots could devise even though, unfortunately, he knew they could be quite imaginative in that arena.

“This is good,” he murmured, his voice pitched soft and low, though such precautions nevertheless resulted in a violent shuddering of her shoulders as she continued to weep. “This is what all this was for. You have a chance at peace.”

She didn’t respond, only her soft, stifled sobs punctuating the silence between them.

Shifting uncomfortably on his feet, he tried a different tack. “I’ve known my fate for a long time, and it was my choice what to do with the time I had left. I don’t regret killing Snoke and Hux. They were evil men and the galaxy is better off without them.”

Seeing her yet unmoved, Ben sighed softly, wishing he knew what to say to help her, for the fact was that it had been all about her for so very long.

“It doesn’t matter what happens to me,” he whispered. “ _I_ don’t matter. Rey… I’m inconsequential.”

To his surprise, that got a reaction from her. With a choked sob, she turned and rushed at him, gripping folds of his tunic in her fists as she peered up into his face with her beautiful but misery-laden eyes. She studied him for a moment, her moist eyes flittering restlessly over every detail of his face, and he stared back in frozen shock.

“That’s not true,” she moaned fiercely.

And before he knew what was happening, she rose up on her toes and pressed her mouth to his, seizing him in a searing kiss that was neither subtle nor tender. Responding on instinct, he wrapped her tight in his arms and dragged her up against his full length as he matched the heat and urgency between the contact of their mouths. He sucked in air through his nose as her tongue swept against his and he moaned into her mouth as he devoured her, his body tingling and singing at the wholly unexpected contact.

She was in his arms, kissing him. Her hands were tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as she pressed herself against him. Then, as though it were the most natural thing in the galaxy, her legs lifted to enclose him, latching around his hips, and his hands moved to support her weight where her thighs met her buttocks. He felt his chest rumble in a thick groan as she angled her hips into him, pressing against the most obvious evidence of his desire. He pulled her against him all the harder, shamelessly grinding his erection into the very juncture where he so wanted to be. He felt her gasp against him, pulling back from the kiss only to lay her mouth at his neck, kissing and biting and sucking, sending him into waves of oblivious sensation. And then she sobbed against his neck. He felt the force of her despair shudder through her body and it abruptly brought him back to his senses.

“No!” he cried, forcefully yet gently extracting himself from her clinging embrace.

Once his intent became clear, she dropped from him rapidly, standing shakily on her own two feet and watching him with one hand covering her mouth as he stumbled back from her and fell into the chair again. Bracing his elbows to his knees, he hunched forward, one hand covering his face and the other gripping the hair at the back of his scalp as he struggled to calm himself, to come to terms with what this meant.

“I can’t…I can’t _do_ this!” he cried in desperate frustration as he rocked his body back and forth, still working frantically to contain his basest desires.

Rey came rushing to him, kneeling before him and reaching beneath the shelter he’d created for himself to cradle his face in her hands. He fought against her, shaking his head and attempting to pull back from her, but she was tenacious.

“ _I_ can’t watch you die!”

“You don’t _have_ to watch!” he wailed, knowing the distinction he latched onto was not what mattered to her.

“Ben!”

He gasped, a sharp inhale that stuck in his throat, and his head lifted instantly. For the first time since they had destroyed Snoke’s Praetorian guard _together_ , he was helpless to hide his emotion from her. He gazed into her eyes, every measure of his despondency and misery clear in his gaze. And he recognized his own helpless despair in her eyes too. She gazed deep into him, her face _so_ close, her hands holding and stroking his jaw, tears streaming from her eyes as she pleaded with him to understand.

“I can’t,” she moaned, her voice shattered and broken. “Ben, please don’t make me do this… I _can’t_.”

Ben hissed, drawing breath sharply through his teeth as he felt her open her mind to him. Knowing he shouldn’t but helpless to stop, he allowed her to draw him in, to pull him into her and to experience what it was she wanted him to see.

He moaned her name in misery as he was assaulted by the memory of Snoke’s throne room. The Supreme Leader and all his Praetorian guard lay scattered about, and all that remained alive was him and Rey. He knew where this went and he didn’t want to relive it again, but she pulled at him, her mind silently pleading with him to stay with her, to listen and feel what this moment had meant for her.

She had been profoundly moved by his sacrifice in murdering his Master to spare her life, by the incredible unity of their minds and bodies as they fought the guard, by her ability to save him when it had seemed the last guard had gotten the better of him. It was a heady feeling, giddy, and she suddenly felt as though whole new possibilities had opened up to her. She felt like, with him at her side, she could accomplish anything. But the first order of business was to stop the carnage afflicting the Resistance, to call off the attack and give the two of them the time they needed to figure out the rest.

But he’d stopped, and her heart plummeted. He asked her to join him in ruling the galaxy, only laying bare the fact that he didn’t understand her at all. And the more he talked, the more he broke her heart. She came to understand that, while he may be committed to the _idea_ of her, it wasn’t truly _her_ he wanted or needed. So she’d been forced to focus on her own survival, and, for that, she’d need a lightsaber.

Looking back on it now, she saw her mistake. Just like Luke, she hadn’t given him an opportunity to prove himself, to come around and do the right thing. She’d perceived his inability to break free from the trappings of the First Order, of galactic rule, and assumed that meant he’d never be free. Given that she couldn’t let herself be drawn toward the Darkness, she’d given up on him. But when he’d appeared here, kneeling before her and demanding she end his life, she caught her first inkling that something had changed. And when he showed her what he’d been up to for the past year, she knew… _knew_ that he’d freed himself and that she’d been wrong.

Because the truth was that she loved him, had from the first moment they’d touched across the stars when she was on Ahch-To. Her heart and spirit broken by his actions on the _Supremacy_ , she’d turned her mind against him, willing the pain to turn to rage, committing herself to taking him out at any opportunity because he was a hopeless cause…until, suddenly, he wasn’t. And it hurt her, caused her physical, mental, and emotional anguish that he was so ready to die, to sacrifice himself for her cause when she was so ready to clasp him to herself and claim him as her own forever. She loved him, wholly and fully, and now that she finally knew that, he wanted to abandon her.

Stunned into immobility, Ben was only vaguely aware that she withdrew from him. He hadn’t been able to comprehend the weight of her angst when he’d asked her to join him. He recognized now the mistake he’d made, believing that her rejection of his request had been a rejection of _him_ , whereas it was really a rejection of the First Order. And he knew all his words had come out wrong, that nothing he’d said in that throne room had been what he meant. He didn’t care if she _ruled_ by his side, only that she _be_ by his side. And everything he’d said about her parents… Gods, what a colossal fuck up that had been. What he’d wanted to convey was not that she wasn’t nothing, but that she was everything, that he couldn’t imagine how her parents could have abandoned her, that _they_ were the ones who didn’t matter, because he could never leave her side if she would only deign to accept him.

And now, it seemed she had, just when he had backed himself into a corner that required he do exactly what would hurt her most.

“Rey…”

“Don’t give up on me, Ben,” she pleaded with him, her tear-drowned eyes beseeching him. “Please don’t be as weak as I was.”

“You were never weak,” he objected, seizing her face between his hands. His thumb smudged the tracks of her tears as he studied every nuance of her countenance, memorizing it in every detail. “You were always the stronger of us. And you always will be.”

“I won’t be if you do this to me!”

“Rey…” he admonished gently. “This war can’t go on. It must end. And I can make it end.”

She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek into his hand as a fresh wave of grief overtook her. She opened her mouth to protest again, but he silenced her quickly.

“I have no place, Rey. I’m an enemy to the Resistance and a traitor to the First Order. No matter where I go or what I do, I’ll be hunted ruthlessly, endlessly, until I’m caught and killed. That serves no purpose. This way, I choose my purpose. For the first time in my life, Rey, this is truly _my_ choice.”

Ben’s head dropped low, overwhelmed by sorrow and struggling against the tears that threatened.

“Please don’t take that away from me,” his voice cracked.

Overcome, his shaking hands withdrew from Rey and laced into his hair, gripping it tight and willing the pain to pull him back from the precipice. It didn’t work, though, and the tears only came harder as he reflected on his own words.

Then, suddenly, she was there. Ducking low, she pushed herself up against Ben’s chest, forcing her way into his arms, kneeling between his knees. Reacting instinctively to her warmth, Ben clung to her, his knees dropping to the floor as the chair shoved away behind him, pulling her into an all-encompassing embrace, sheltered by his arms, thighs, and torso. His body trembled with the weight of his emotion, of his need to hold her close, and she held him every bit as tight.

“I love you, Rey,” he moaned brokenly into her neck, his body clinging convulsively. “I’ve loved you for so long. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve fucked up. I’m so sorry I couldn’t do better. Gods, Rey…! I’m so sorry…”

She responded by holding him tighter, her arms wrapping around his back as he moaned and sobbed and released all the misery he’d kept so resolutely contained for most of his life. She murmured words he couldn’t understand, but they weren’t important, only her voice, her presence, her acceptance of his grief mattered as he emptied himself at her feet. And as he slowly calmed, he became aware of the little kisses she laid at his neck, her breath feathering his skin, until he began to dread the moment at which she would withdraw from him and remove the comfort he exploited from her. And when it inevitably came, when he felt the subtle movement that indicated her need to pull away from him, he forced his muscles to release their hold on her. But then she surprised him by pressing herself against him once more, her breath warm at his ear.

“Show me you love me, Ben.”

He froze, knowing she couldn’t possibly mean what he thought she meant. As much as he would love to do exactly that, he couldn’t. Within a couple days, maybe sooner, he’d be gone. How could he share such intimate moments with her and expect her to live with that after he was gone? It would be horribly cruel and unjust. He couldn’t do that to her.

“What would be cruel,” she murmured, her voice trembling, “would be to leave me with never having known what it was like to be with you.”

No… She couldn’t mean that…

“I love you, Ben. And if this is the only time we’ll have together, I want to have everything to remember you by.”

He shook his head, moaning her name in rising desperation. If she didn’t stop tempting him…

“Please don’t take this away from me.”

Undone by his words thrown back at him, he took her. His mouth claimed hers with visceral urgency and her fingers clawed at his back. Having accepted her wishes, there could be no stopping either of them now, and they both frantically pulled at each other, desperate for the fulfillment of their carnal needs. Breaking away with a stifled cry, Ben worked at his trousers with fumbling fingers as Rey did the same, their eyes locked on one another in dark, desperate passion. The moment her leggings were flung aside, she flew back to his arms, straddling his hips. Without preamble, he pressed himself up inside her and their voices joined in expression of the fulfillment they both felt. Quickly becoming irritated by the distraction of her tunic as he proceeded to set a driving pace, he flung the fabric over her head then did the same with his own. With another guttural cry, he wrapped his arms across the smooth, bare expanse of her back and felt her supple breasts meet his chest.

Rising up onto his knees, he thrust with animalistic urgency into her, driven to greater heights of desperation by the wholly intoxicating sounds of her pleasure. As he attempted to experience every surface of her all at once, he felt the core of her body grip his cock all the tighter and he groaned long and low, even as her breathless squeals grew higher and more urgent. She threw her head back in ecstasy and he latched his mouth onto her exposed neck, suckling as he continued driving and thrusting with relentless need. He felt the edge of his release surging toward him, and he grunted out with renewed urgency, to which she responded in kind. Her voice lifted to new heights as her body suddenly contracted around him, her hands clinging, her legs squeezing, and her core convulsing as she came apart in his arms. With a final thrust, Ben burst forth in wondrous color as his passion for her pumped deep inside her, and he groaned with his release, their bodies shuddering together as they floated slowly back to themselves.

“Rey…” he panted as he continued to move against the liquid heat in which she encased him.

With effort, she lifted her head to meet his gaze, and he could see the deep satisfaction there, along with the latent sorrow. Her hand, moving as though underwater, lifted to stroke his cheek and she gazed deep into his eyes. And then the tears came.

Closing his eyes against the pain, Ben carefully laid her down to the floor. He settled atop her, unwilling for their bodies to be parted yet, and carefully, gently stroked the tears away from her eyes. Drawing her knees up along his flanks, she squeezed him intimately and he inhaled sharply with the sudden shaft of pleasure stabbing through him. His need rekindled so easily, he dragged his length slowly from her body, then push himself back in. He watched her beautiful face contorting in a maddening combination of pleasure and sorrow as he made love to her in a wholly different way now, intoxicated by the sight of her, the feel of her, the knowledge that she wanted this with _him_. Already, she was writhing beneath him and tightening around him. Reaching between their bodies to help her along, she yelped and widened her gaze at him as he found her clit. He watched in fascination as her skin flushed and her breathing quickened, her pleasure coming at her fast now.

“No, Rey,” he objected when she turned her face aside in ecstasy, his voice strained. “Look at me. Let me see you come.”

She met his gaze, unabashed as she displayed for him just what his touch did to her. To his astonishment, she took his plea as step further and he felt her open her mind to him. Helpless to resist, he accepted her invitation and gasped at the magnitude of love and ecstasy she felt from him. Joined in a feedback loop between the both of them, their gazes locked as each recognized the full extent of what they shared…and what they were to lose. Sobbing in a wholly overwhelming blend of grief and pleasure, her body convulsed beneath him as her arms and legs clung to him. And as the crest of her pleasure broke over her, she gasped his name, panting out her love for him. He broke as he was carried along in the sensation of what he did for her body and heart, and he pressed languidly inside her and held her, trembling, as he came yet again.

Spent both physically and emotionally, Ben laid alongside her. Reaching back to pull a blanket down from her bed, he wrapped her in his arms and cradled her head against his chest, holding her as close as he possibly could. Laying there, he became aware of the moisture at his eyes and he pressed his mouth against her hair, stifling the sorrow that threatened to drown him in the wake of their joined ecstasy.

“Rey…” he croaked, not having anything in particular to say, but feeling the need to speak her name, to feel it on his lips and claim it as his own.

She lifted her head, draping her arm across his chest as she hovered above him enough to study his face. She smoothed away his tear even as more fell from her eyes. And he could see exactly what she felt for him, reflected in her eyes.

“Ben,” she murmured, her lips smiling even as they trembled and more tears fell. “You will always have a place in my heart. Forever.”


	6. Here Comes Finn to Save the Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title says it all!!!

Ben stood as she entered, and he knew just from the slope of her shoulders and the bent of her head that this was it, even before he saw what she carried in her hand. She lifted her eyes to his, and they were so red and raw with the evidence of her misery that he felt his heart cleave in two. He wanted to reach for her, to comfort her, but there was no comfort. They had already made their farewells, and it was best to leave it at that. With a slight nod and downcast eyes, she made it clear she accepted his logic, even though he hadn’t said a word.

Following her gaze to the hardware in her hands, Ben felt his stomach plunge. He’d hoped, though without much actual hope, that he truly would simply be executed once he was back within First Order territory. But, if that were the case, then the bindings that had clearly been supplied by the enemy would have been sufficient. The collar, however… While its Force nullifying effect was marginally more effective than the bindings, its primary effect was of humiliation, subjugation, degradation. It meant he was indeed to be made to suffer before dying, and most publicly too.

Briefly, he considered forbidding Rey from watching any First Order holos in the future, but he reconsidered. Not only would he have no way to bind her to such a vow, but to bring it up now would only upset her. She looked at both the items in her hands with equal foreboding, which indicated to him that she didn’t understand the subtle message conveyed by the collar. To warn her against the future would only alert her to the horrid reality of his fate. She would find out soon enough, and he could only pray she would choose not to know what happened to him.

She lingered in silence before him, her fingers gripping the hardware in her hands so tight that her knuckles whitened. And, though he attempted to pitch it low and soothing, her body nevertheless jerked at the jarring sound of his voice.

“You don’t have to be here, Rey.”

She met his gaze then, a single tear escaping the rigid control she attempted to exert over them.

“Yes, I do,” she insisted, her voice raw. “I’m not letting anyone else put these on you.”

He nodded, understanding she meant someone else might be more ruthless with him, whereas she would be gentle. He accepted she felt she needed this, but, secretly, he wished she was far from here. He didn’t want her remembering him shackled and collared like a beast. But he knew it was beyond his say now.

With a solitary intent, as though she could only handle focusing on one task at a time, she turned aside and carefully, deliberately set the bindings down on an adjacent table. Then, with a deep breath, she stepped hesitantly toward him. Wordless, he reached up to sweep the length of his hair aside as she fit the collar around his neck. He repressed a shudder through his body as he felt the latch connect and seal, the sickening feeling of the nullifying field encasing him and causing him to tremble uncontrollably for a moment. By the time he’d adapted, he found Rey pressed against him, holding him tight in her arms, her cheek pressed against the collar and sharing the effects of its field with him. He slid his hands around her back and held her close, closing his eyes against the pain of no longer being able to feel her presence through the Force. In the past hours, it had become a constant source of comfort in the near constant turmoil of his mind, and he silently, privately mourned its loss. Closing his eyes and bending his head forward as much as the collar would allow, he pressed his face against her hair and inhaled her scent, treasuring this last opportunity.

Ben noticed as she backed away from him with obvious reluctance that she did not meet his gaze. They had agreed at their last parting that it was to be their farewell, attendant with all the tears and misery they cared to express. This, however, was to be staid, stoic. She had already violated that vow in embracing him, but any more, he knew, would simply be too much to bear, for either of them. So he didn’t attempt to catch her eye as she retrieved the binders and stepped behind him. His wrists meeting at his back, he felt her cold, slender fingers trembling against his skin as she affixed the bindings, and Ben was suddenly assailed by a memory.

It was a story he’d known as long as he could remember, but he’d never understood it until this moment. His father, caught in a trap by his grandfather, was to be encased in carbonite for transportation to a Hutt. Overcome by the experience and with so much that still lay unsaid between them, his mother had impulsively expressed her love for him, to which the cocky scoundrel that had always been his dad merely replied, “I know.” It had been an amusing tale, told with the advantage of hindsight and a happy ending, a shared memory and expression of affection between his parents. Ben recalled scoffing at it, rolling his eyes in annoyance whenever it came up again and again. And he only now understood it, could perceive the agony of impending death when faced with so much left undone, unsaid. And his heart wept, for himself and for Rey, but also for his parents, both victims of this war and his own stupidity.

Having only just reigned himself in at the sudden memory from his childhood, Ben almost lost it when he felt Rey’s fingers move against his. Clutching at her almost desperately, he closed his eyes, his throat working convulsively in an effort to contain his emotions, both for his sake and hers. Not entirely successful, one tear streaked down, its trail left to dry and pull at his skin as he gave a silent nod, telling Rey he was ready.

Ducking under the low door of the little hut, he was surprised to see so many people outside awaiting them. Surprisingly, he found the multitude of witnesses to be helpful in containing his emotions. Hardening his gaze against their hostile, prying eyes, he nevertheless tightened his grip on Rey’s fingers, gleaning strength from the knowledge that she loved him and was with him. As much as he regretted her presence for her sake, he was selfishly grateful she was here.

Ben sucked in a sharp breath when his eyes finally landed upon an unmistakably tall, shaggy creature. Lowering his face immediately upon recognizing Chewbacca, Ben worked to contain himself yet again. He’d known his father’s long-time cohort was here, of course, but had completely forgotten in his narrow-minded focus on everything else that had happened in the past day. But here he was, the first time he’d seen him since murdering the Wookie’s closest friend, Ben’s own father. And he owed him whatever pitifully insufficient recompense was his to give. So Ben lifted his face once more, his gaze filled with remorse and apology as he maintained solitary focus on his Uncle Chewie. Without the benefit of his access to the Force, it was impossible to interpret the fuzzball’s thoughts on the matter, but Ben hoped that his unspoken apology and his surrender for the sake of peace would have to be enough. Or it wouldn’t be. Either way, it was all he could do anymore.

A full entourage of the Resistance’s command — Ben recognized Finn and the pilot he’d interrogated so very long ago — fell into step behind them, bearing silent witness to this historic moment that would secure peace for them all. From the First Order’s viewpoint, Rey’s hold on him would appear to be that of a captor guiding a captive. But to the members of command behind him, the evidence of their connection was plain in their intertwined fingers.

He knew both Rey and Finn had fully briefed command on Ben’s actions over the past year, and that she for one had fully repented of her need to exact vengeance upon him for his past misdeeds. While grateful for his change of heart, though, the commanding generals had deemed his efforts too little too late, and the prisoner exchange had been approved. Privately, Ben hoped they noticed the intertwining of his and Rey’s fingers, and were forced to witness and provide comfort to Rey in her grief after his departure and during his incarceration. He hoped they suffered with the knowledge of what they were putting her through. And then he dismissed them from his thoughts entirely.

Looking ahead, Ben saw a First Order command shuttle, possibly even the very one that had once been assigned as his own. An officer — a man he recognized as a particularly obsequious sycophant of Hux’s — was flanked by two gleaming stormtroopers, and their scant numbers indicated they fully expected the traitorous Supreme Leader to pose them no problem. And he wouldn’t, of course, knowing that the Resistance’s peace hung in the balance. He would provide them no excuse to go back on their agreement. Some things were simply more important than defiance.

A slight tug on his fingers had Ben stopping. He and his accompanying entourage stood a good forty paces from the shuttle, and he knew this was where the business of the exchange would be handled. A relatively low-level member of the Resistance command strode out from behind Ben and toward the enemy contingent, official document in hand. One of the stormtroopers, rather than the self-designated General of the First Order, came forward to perform the obligatory review of the agreed-upon treaty. Ben waited in silence, his heart beating languorous and heavy in his chest, when a discontent mutter rose from behind him.

“This isn’t right.”

“Shut up, Finn,” came the swift and impatient response. “We’ve been over this.”

“Well, you didn’t _see_ it, Poe!” Finn hissed back.

Ben stretched his face toward the pale, filtered sunlight, only now contemplating this was the last he’d likely enjoy such a sight. He didn’t know exactly what the squabble behind him was about, but he knew Rey didn’t need this. Already, he could feel her fingers trembling in his.

“Show ‘em, Ben,” Finn said suddenly, his voice close behind his back. “Show ‘em what you showed me.”

“He _can’t_ ,” Rey grit out at her friend.

Ben locked his jaw down tight as the familiar sensation of rage overcame him. Though he appreciated what Finn was trying to do, he knew the argument had been made and rejected. No matter his aid to the Resistance in the past year, his deeds as Supreme Leader were too grievous for redemption. What’s more, the chance at real peace with the First Order, a firm, legal agreement, was simply too compelling. What was the death of one man if it could secure peace and an end to this interminable war? Frankly, he agreed with their assessment, both in regard to his past deeds and the price of peace. But his larger concern at the moment was what this last-minute objection did to Rey.

“Then take that thing off!” he objected, gesturing impatiently at the collar as his voice rose louder than Ben felt was particularly wise. “They need to see it! They need to know!”

“Finn…”

Her voice was broken, pained, and Ben reacted to it perhaps far more violently than was strictly advisable, given the circumstances. Turning abruptly, he got directly into Finn’s face, startling the younger man as he hissed quietly but fiercely at him.

“Shut up!” he ground out angrily. “Think of _her_!”

To his surprise, Finn hissed right back, “I _am_ thinking of her!”

Ben recognized both his logic and his unspoken accusation instantly, and it both angered and stunned him. He knew what this was doing to her. He knew what it would continue to do to her. He had thought only of her welfare for so long now, he didn’t know what it was to think of anyone else. But to willingly subject himself to this exchange, to imprisonment and most assuredly torture for the rest of his days… How exactly was that to the benefit of the woman who had declared her love for him and spent the better part of the past several hours demonstrating it over and over? He reminded himself that she could never be safe until the war was over. She was too impetuous and loyal to lay aside her weapons and let others wage the battles. As long as there was oppression to resist, she would be there among them, doing so until her very last breath. Peace was the only way to protect her, and peace was within his power to deliver. So he would see it done.

Without another word, he resumed his position at the front of the entourage, his face grim and stony in the face of his most assuredly unpleasant fate, and found the lackey standing there, uncertainly clasping the official document in his hand.

“All is in order,” he reported anxiously, to which Ben nearly growled in frustration.

There was a suspended moment in which they all, Rey the hardest of all, awaited a decision to reverse the expected order. As Ben fully anticipated, the senior general, the same pilot he’d interrogated, merely said, “Proceed.”

“No!” Finn shouted, full voiced now.

At a gesture from Dameron, two guards strode forward to seize Finn by the arms, but he fought them, shouting the entire way.

“It doesn’t make any sense!” he bellowed. “If all they wanted was him dead, they could demand we do it! Why all this! Why do they want him away from here! Damnit, Poe, you’re asking the wrong questions!”

At first, Ben’s only concern was to hope that Rey didn’t deduce what he’d tried so diligently to keep from her, the fact that he was in for a lot more pain than just death. But then something had him reconsidering the former stormtrooper’s words. He been trained and conditioned by the First Order, and he knew perhaps as well as if not better than Ben himself that the First Order did not waste effort. Everything was planned with utmost efficiency, nothing left to chance. So…why, indeed? Why insist on a formal prisoner exchange with all the ceremonial trappings…and only send three representatives from the receiving end?

Peering at Hux’s replacement with renewed interest, Ben found the man’s previously superior and gloating expression changed somehow. To his dismay, the man was quickly proving far more adept at hiding his thoughts than he’d expected, and Ben couldn’t put his finger on what he was seeing. If only this damn collar—

Abruptly, Ben looked down at Rey at his side. She met his gaze, her eyes alert and concerned. She was by his side, the two of them, possibly the last Force users left in the galaxy…and they were both caught in the nullifying field of this damn collar.

“Move away from me,” he hissed at her quickly.

She started to shake her head but he stopped her.

“Move out of the field and search for anything out of place.”

Her eyes widened, and he knew she understood she needed to access the Force. His gaze flipped back toward the general as she moved swiftly back, and he saw what he’d missed before: the man’s fingers fidgeting constantly over something small concealed in his hand. And Ben knew exactly what it was. His eyes widening in alarm, he spun toward Rey, only to find her hand already extended toward him, her face tense with alarm and strain.

“Move away from me!” he shouted frantically. “It’s a trap!”

Chaos erupting everywhere as he found himself very suddenly and entirely alone, Ben saw the First Order contingent retreating quickly into the shuttle.

“Stop them, Rey!”

“I can’t!” she cried, her voice strained and frantic. “It’s already detonated!”

“ _Fuck_!”

Ben watched, helpless, as the deceitful general fled. Then a well-aimed blaster bolt streaked from somewhere beyond him and into the interior of the shuttle. He couldn’t tell what exactly that had accomplished, but then he saw Chewbacca and two accompanying Resistance fighters sprint into the shuttle and its engines powered down. That was all he noticed, though, before his attention was drawn back to Rey. Her body was trembling violently, her brow sweating as she strained at a task he too would find terribly draining.

“You’re going to have to let go, Rey,” he told her, attempting to strike a balance between a soothing tone and one loud enough to carry the distance to her.

“No!” she cried, desperate. “I won’t!”

“Sweetheart,” he cajoled, feeling his own measure of desperation picking up.

If she continued to contain the effect beyond her endurance, she could cause herself severe harm. It wasn’t worth the risk. He could walk toward her, force her into the nullifying field and then her control would slip and it wouldn’t be her fault, but he knew he couldn’t do that to her, knew the emotional harm that would cause her. Besides, he didn’t know how strong the charge was, and it could harm her if he got too close. So, he took the only alternative left to him and backed away from her.

“NO! Ben Solo,” she wept openly now, stepping forward to match his retreat, “don’t you leave me!”

He stopped, staring at her in stricken agony. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

“What is it?”

Ben turned, startled to see Finn running toward him.

“No, stay back!” he warned him. “There’s a charge in the collar and it’s already been activated. Rey’s containing it, but she can’t hold it long.”

“Fuck,” Finn muttered, causing Ben to twist his mouth in dark solidarity.

“That’s what I said.”

“What do you need me to do?”

Ben stared, stunned. He’d almost killed this man once, and now here he was, risking his life to help _him_. He was frozen speechless until Finn shouted at him.

“Come on, man! Tell me what to do!”

“Get these fucking binders off me!”

To Ben’s vast relief, he watched Finn pull his lightsaber from inside his jacket. Turning his back, he felt a singe as Finn cut the binders from him but, more importantly, he felt the nullifying field weaken. The collar was still too strong, though, and Ben couldn’t do anything to help Rey yet.

“Give me that,” he demanded, holding his hand out for his lightsaber.

Obliging him immediately, Finn handed over the weapon and Ben looked toward Rey.

“Go stand with Rey,” he told him quickly. “Wrap your arms around her. She can draw some strength from your life force.”

Finn stared in shock for a moment and Ben deliberately didn’t think too much about what he’d just told him to do. Fortunately, Finn realized there were more important things than a reformed Dark Sider’s penchant for jealousy at the moment, and he hurried to do exactly as he’d been instructed.

Turning his focus at last toward Rey, Ben found her face ashen, her limbs shaking violently, her eyes wild with fright. She shook her head frantically, though, when he lifted his snarling, spitting saber toward his own neck.

“No!” Rey cried from within Finn’s awkward embrace. “I can’t contain that!”

He knew she meant the saber’s energy would explosively ignite the detonator inside the collar, blowing his head off along with it. If he had access to the Force, he could determine what portion of the collar was most likely to release its hold on him without affecting the explosive. But without it… He’d just have to guess.

“I’ll help you as soon as I’m released.”

“It’ll be too late!” she shrieked, tears streaking her face now.

“I’ll just have a nice, matching scar,” he joked, smiling bravely for her sake, knowing the odds of him escaping this were slim.

“ _Ben_!” she protested frantically.

“I love you, Rey!”

And without delaying further, hearing her cry of rage and fright, he thrust the red of his plasma blade at the collar. Feeling the welcoming flush of the Force flooding into his consciousness almost immediately, he reinforced Rey’s containment of the explosion, thrusting the vile collar away from them both into the trees. He caught a glimpse of a fiery ball just before the field released the explosion contained within, and it erupted with enough force that he and everyone around him likely would have been left in tatters had they been caught unawares. Only then, knowing the danger was past for Rey, did the pain register in Ben’s mind.

Falling to the forest floor, Ben knew half his face was gone. The pain seared through him in agonizing heat and he resisted the instinct to clamp his hand to the charred flesh, knowing that would only make matters worse. Dimly, through the pain, he was aware of Rey at his side, cradling him in her arms. He stifled the sounds of his agony and pressed the intact side of his face to her arm, taking comfort in her proximity.

“Help me,” she said, and Ben thought she spoke to Finn, but then she shook him insistently. “ _Help me_!”

Having no idea what she intended, he reached out through the pain to access the Force. Feeling the draw of her presence, he concentrated on her, augmenting her Force energy with whatever strength he could call upon beyond his physical agony. And suddenly a bright, golden light suffused him, blinding him with its brilliance. Slowly, the pain receded and the light faded, though the soothing warmth it engendered did not, and he belatedly realized that she was healing him. He had no idea she had developed such a skill, and a wave of pride swept over him as he thought of how amazing this woman he loved was. Suspecting the rebuilding of flesh to be quite laborious, he pushed as much of his Force into her as she could take. He felt the path of his energy flow through her body to her hands and, from there, back into him as his face knit back together. Vaguely, he wondered if the scar she’d given him would be gone, too. He didn’t especially want to lose that but, if he could have her, then he could deal with losing the scar.

After what seemed both an impossibly brief and unbelievably long time — and, he suspected, longer than his healing had probably actually required — he felt her collapse beneath him. Suddenly recognizing his own strength had been entirely sapped as well, he realized he was in no shape to offer her any aid. He objected weakly when he vaguely sensed Finn lifting her into his arms, and he wanted to warn Finn that touching her was a one-time deal, but he simply lacked the strength. Then his mind was entirely occupied by the fact that Uncle Chewie was scooping him up, carrying him like he’d done so many times during his childhood. Overwhelmed by the sense of acceptance and nostalgia, he pressed his face gratefully into the Wookie’s fur, feeling that all would be well since he’d finally managed to regain at least some portion of his family. Suddenly aware of another figure walking alongside, Ben twisted his head toward the Resistance general.

“I’ve changed my mind, Dameron,” he said, his voice edged with snarkiness despite his ongoing flirtation with unconsciousness. “I refuse to surrender myself to the First Order.”

To his satisfaction, the general snorted and smiled. “Don’t expect you to.”

“You better be taking me to Rey,” he said abruptly to the mountain of fur that carried him.

Chewie chuffed softly and Ben closed his eyes, reassured, as his fingers tangled in the rough fur like he had as a child. A moment later, Chewie was maneuvering him into Rey’s hut, where she was already nestled in her bed and awaiting him anxiously, wearily. Half rising as they deposited him at her side, she greeted him with a stern look followed by a deep kiss.

“I’m never letting you do that again,” she admonished him as soon she allowed him up for air.

“What?” he asked with a glint of mischief in his tone. “Risk my life for a sham peace accord? Or kiss you?”

Narrowing her eyes in response, she kissed him again and he willingly lost himself in her embrace. Only peripherally aware of the trio behind him, Ben’s ears perked up when he heard Dameron address Finn in a tone of amazement.

“You’re okay with this?”

Turning in curiosity, Ben saw that Chewie had already left and Finn hesitated at the door, looking back toward the two of them lying there entwined in one another’s arms. Catching his gaze, Ben nodded his gratitude to the former stormtrooper, knowing none of them would be here now if it hadn’t been for his stubborn interference. To his surprise, Finn burst into a wide grin.

“Hell, yeah,” he told Dameron as he pushed him out of the hut. “I’m hella okay with this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're familiar with my work, you know this treatment of Finn is quite unusual for me. See how he's speaking just at the end there for all us Reylos?!?!? I like Finn this way! I think I'm going to have to be nicer to him in the future!!!
> 
> Thank you so much for coming with me on this little ride! It was kiddie in dimensions, but definitely not in content. I hope you enjoyed it, and please let me know what you thought, either way!!!
> 
> Please come say "Hi" on Tumblr, if you're there!


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